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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422365">Debts to Pay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSova/pseuds/RedSova'>RedSova</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misplaced Souls [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Needs Therapy, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Reincarnated Jedi, Rocks Fall Everyone Dies, SI! Plo Koon, Self-Insert, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, Soulmate-Identifying Marks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:42:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSova/pseuds/RedSova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Actually, My Wolffe," an apologetic look has settled on his Riduur's face by time he glances over, "That Bastard, as you so elegantly put it, happens to be my older brother."</p><p> </p><p>'When life gives you lemons. You make lemonade. So what are you supposed to do when it gets bored of lemons and decides to yeet you into another Reality instead? ' -SI! Reincarnation! Plo Koon</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-6454 | Ponds/Mace Windu, Kit Fisto &amp; Mace Windu, Kit Fisto &amp; Plo Koon &amp; Aayla Secura, Kit Fisto/Shaak Ti, Plo Koon &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe, Plo Koon &amp; Mace Windu, Plo Koon &amp; Original Clone Trooper Character(s), Plo Koon/CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Misplaced Souls [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1005714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Debts to Pay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>When she was young she was diagnosed with a severe case of Aerophobia.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her older brother would tease her constantly about it as he always tried to lift her clear off the ground over his head. The moment her feet left the ground, she would always scream as though she was being murdered causing their Mother to stop whatever she was doing and rush to her rescue.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She remembers sobbing until she found it difficult to breathe while clinging to her Mother’s legs once she was safe back on the ground as the other tore into her brother for purposely setting her off into another panic attack.  Her brother, never one to admit flaw if he could help it, would always argue back that he was just trying to help her overcome her fears. Their Mother was never impressed with Her Brother's efforts to help, nor his argument on how she could be afraid forever as every time they had this discussion he was always told to leave her alone or be grounded.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He never stayed away for longer than an hour before he would come back to her with a heavy blanket and stolen cookies as an apology.  She remembers how he would bundle her tightly in the cover before dragging her into his lap and handing her one stolen cookie after another while talking about anything and everything that crossed his mind until she finished off the stolen goods.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He would help her to her feet afterward, the blanket pooling on the ground around her, before smiling and asking:  “It may not be today, but one day won’t you be brave for me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And like clockwork, she would always hesitate for a moment before nodding in agreement. It would not be that day, but one day she would be brave for him as he was for her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When she grew up, she never quite grew out of her fear; but rather learned how to concealed it so didn’t affect her daily life. Sure, she was no longer scared to the point she had a panic attack every time her feet left the ground, but she didn’t dare go anywhere near anything that called the sky its home.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For most of the time, it didn’t really affect her, but some days she regretted it. Such as the day her Brother left their childhood home to more across the country and asked her to come with him, but fear gripped her soul tightly and she refused. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be brave enough to go to the airport with him, but he seemed to understand as all he did was smile at her and ask:</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It may not be today, but one day won’t you be brave for me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And like clockwork, she nodded her head in agreement. Then he was gone. For years she didn’t hear anything from her brother - she didn’t blame him, he was a busy man and so was she though she did miss him dearly - until, on one cold December day, she received a call.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please come,” the voice of a woman by the name of Dr. Sophia speaks through the speaker of her cellphone, “He doesn’t have much time left. “</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Which is how she finds herself sitting with the cushioned seat of a literal Death Trap Thousands of miles in the air. To be honest, she’s terrified and a part of her is still screaming to get off the plane while she can that something horrible is going to happen; but.....</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>‘It may not be today, but one day won’t you be brave for me?’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Today she would be brave.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ladies and Gentlemen,  I’ve turned on the fasten seat belts sign and asked the flight attendants to be seated, we may be entering an area of turbulence and would like everyone seated for safety.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> <em>Chapter One</em> </strong> </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Pain.</em>
</p>
<p>It consumed her as spreads of light slowly pierced into the darkness. Then a noise, soft and almost uncertain, followed.</p>
<p>“Think.....waking up.....hurry.....Splint.”</p>
<p>A part of her knows that noise-<em> it’s familiar in a way that only comes from years of experience-</em> but her mind is dazed -<em> clouded and fogged with pain and confusion</em> - to understand even the most basic of concepts.</p>
<p>Pain, on the other hand, is something her mind does register down to its primal aspect.  So maybe that’s why her first thought it to howl and thrash like a wounded animal as an even sharper pain than what she was previously experiencing consumes her.</p>
<p>Whatever is beyond the darkness and pain doesn’t seem to appreciate that though as there is suddenly flimsy restraints trying to keep her still as she tries to escape.<br/> <br/>“Hold.....Down.....need.....stop....bleeding....Now!”</p>
<p>She doesn’t understand. Everything hurts and somehow she has to escape but the restraints seem to be stronger -<em>Broader and not as smooth as they once were</em> -as even more of them seem to appear from the darkness only to cling to her flesh like leeches.</p>
<p><em>She’s scared.</em> She doesn’t understand what’s going on, but she has to be brave even if she doesn’t remember why she needs to do so. So she refuses to cry, instead, she howls and struggles, claws at the darkness in an attempt to drive away whatever is attacking her, but it’s all in vain.</p>
<p>“Keep.......Still as possible.........if we don’t......Cauterize.....Bleed out!”</p>
<p>Instead, there’s somehow even more pain, followed by the scent of burning meat before the darkness consumes her mind once more. She doesn’t bother to fight the abyss, instead choosing to welcome and the sense of sanctuary it offers her from the pain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>~X~X~X~</strong> </em> </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time she manages to drag her subconscious from the Abyss once more, the pain is no longer all-consuming but rather hollowed out as though nothing more than a faint echo of what it should be.</p>
<p>
  <em>But then again, she shouldn’t be feeling any pain, should she? She had been on the plane, going to see her older brother, so why did her body ache as though someone had thrown her into a meat grinder?</em>
</p>
<p>She tries to think back on things for a moment: She remembers boarding the plane, having a seat next to a park ranger moving across the country for a new job, and then there had been a voice over the Intercoms, but everything after that was a blur.</p>
<p>
  <em>What happened?</em>
</p>
<p>For some reason just thinking this question causes their throat to hurt and it not until a pair of hands are carefully pulling her body from the cool structure it’s laying upon that she realizes she has not thought these words but rather spoken them aloud.</p>
<p>“Easy,” a masculine voice she doesn’t know pierces the darkness, “You gave us quite the scare there. “</p>
<p>She can feel her back being pressed against a firm structure even as the firm yet soothing voice pierces through the darkness once more, “Can you open your eyes?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Can she?</em>
</p>
<p>She honestly doesn’t know as her eyelids feel like stone fused together, but she’s willing to try if only to put the strands of worry<em>- Can she? What if she can’t? What if her eyes are literally fused shit and that’s why they’re so heavy? What if she opens them but sees nothing?-</em> creeping into her mind to rest. It takes more effort then she cares to admit, but when she finally does she’s greeted by the sight of a man with dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes that she distantly recognized as her seating partner from the plane.</p>
<p>The park ranger: <em>Trevor? ....No that wasn’t it. Tom? Thomas? Theodore? Timothy? No, that’s not right either.</em> She knew his name. He had told her as they made idle chatter, but her head hurt, and every time she tried to grab ahold of it, the thought would slip through her fingers.</p>
<p>“It’s Travis, actually,” There’s a hint of amusement to the other’s voice, “but I don’t think anyone can fault you for having difficulty remembering right now with that lump on the back of your head.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Lump? What lump?</em>
</p>
<p>It’s reflex more than anything that has her trying to lift her right hand to check the back of her head, but she can’t. Her arm will not move and just attempting to do so sends a sharp jolt of pain into her chest which in turn causes her body to try hunching over into itself.</p>
<p>Try being the keyword as the moment she starts caving there are calloused hands carefully gripping ahold of her as she finally catches her first sight of herself:</p>
<p><em>Bandages</em>. There are bandages wrapped all around her chest, stomach, and right arm. Her shirt is gone for some reason but she can just barely make out the faint shade of emerald of her bra under the white and pink fabrics and there’s someone’s jacket in her lap.</p>
<p>First Aid, her mind whispers to her as she catches sight of what looks to be two sticks under the bandages enclosing her arm.</p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>It hurts to speak, but she needs to know and he seems to understand as a soft sigh leaves the other lips while hands carefully lean her against the cool structure -<em> a stone wall of some sort -</em> behind her before pulling the jacket back up to grant her a sense of modesty.</p>
<p>“Do you remember boarding the plane?”</p>
<p>She nods. She can remember that, the anxiety in her chest as she swallowed down her fear and forced herself to keep walking forward, to keep rushing towards her brother who needed her to be brave for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Travis’ lips twitched slightly, “Well, that’s more than some of the other’s remember. Do you remember the warning about the turbulence?”<br/> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once more she finds herself nodding as something heavily seems to enter the other's eyes, “It was worst than we thought. It...tore apart the plane around us like one would open a sardine can-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Howling winds. Voices screaming. Hands tightly ahold to her armrest as breath fogged an oxygen mask. Be brave. Smoke and fire. A hole where a portion of the plane’s outer/inner shell once was. Fear. Be brave. Flying objects being flung out of it: a suitcase, a bag, a cart, a chair with its screaming passenger still trapped inside. Be brave.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“- once we lost that wall, We never stood a chance- “</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>A woman screaming. A broken seat belt is torn clear off a passenger's chair by the furious winds. Be brave. A body clawing for something steady to hold onto as it dragged at a rapid speed towards the hole. Be brave. A face she recognizes from her class at University. They have classes together, but she’s never spoken to him outside of assignments. She doesn’t even remember his name.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“-and-“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Be brave. It’s his sister which is screaming. He loses his seatbelt and is suddenly flying. Be brave. It’s sheer dumb luck her mad scramble to grab him actually works. It’s somehow even dumber luck she manages to lock her finger before his Weight and the wind pressure has her arm forced at an angle that screams unnatural. Be brave. Pain. Her arm is broken and It hurts, but she has him. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“-.....Well,...-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She’s afraid but she reaches over with her still good hand. He’s right there, all she has to do is pull him into their aisle. All she has to do is be brave. It’s not easy. Every time she pulls him closer to her, the wind tries to pull them both away, even when Travis tries to help her help him.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>There’s metal flying everywhere, half the seats and passengers are missing, the hole has gotten bigger and the fire had spread even further. She’s terrified, but she needs to be brave. She’s twisted at an angle, her good hand gripping onto the others wrist as he barely manages to pull himself into the empty aisle being them when something like terror flickers into his eyes. She barely hears him scream a warning over the wind before her body jerks without her permission and a wet cough slips through her lips. It takes her a moment to register the pain, let alone the metal piercing through her skin and pinning her to her seat like a moth to a board.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Strangely enough, she doesn’t feel fear as her vision swims. Instead, she questions if her Brother would be proud of her for finally finding that day she would be brave for him. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>It’s her last thought before she swallowed by the Deity known as Death.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“-Honestly, we should all be dead. “</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s only Travis’s own reflexes that keep her from throwing upon him as her Stomach revolts upon the images- <em>the memories, her memories</em> - flashing through her mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s right. Not only should they be dead, but she <strong><em>WAS</em> </strong>Dead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>So why did she wake - alive and whole despite her pain, scars, and.....Was that a Cauterized wound she saw earlier?- and what in Heaven's name was going on here?!</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> <em>~X~X~X~</em> </strong> </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As it turns out, she is not the only dead person walking. Though it would appear she was one of the sparse few who woke up and wasn’t automatically healed.<br/>Logically she should be jealous- <em>especially when the other survivors come to visit her with hesitant but friendly smiles as they easily walk around despite knowing at least three of them had lost everything below their waist before waking up alive and whole here-</em> but she finds it had to do so as a bundle of joy, using her lap for a chair, prattles on like there’s no tomorrow.</p>
<p>His name is Oliver Wool and while his outlook on the reality of their situation helps distract her, it's his situation that soothes any jealously she might have felt. For you see, while she was not among the others who were magically healed of all her wounds, at least she had appeared here with other survivors....</p>
<p>
  <em>Oliver's parents, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. </em>
</p>
<p>No one was quite sure what happened to the two despite the other survivors going as far as to conduct a massive search for the young couple-<em> It was almost as if they had vanished into thin air-</em> so six-year-old Oliver Wood had awoken an orphan. </p>
<p><em>'Be grateful for what you have, for someone out there has it worse.'</em> Her brother used to tell her those words when the harsh claws of a green-eyed monster would burrow themselves into her younger self. Back then, it had been hard to swallow down the pill of wisdom her brother had freely offered her, but now she finds it as easy as breathing. </p>
<p>Sure, she was crippled right now, but at least she was alive to be crippled and unlike young Oliver, she hadn't awoken to find herself surrounded by complete strangers as she actually knew some of the other survivors from her classes in University. So while things weren't perfect for her, it wasn't all that bad either.  So she swallows down the part of her that wants to rage over her situation and offers the blonde child a peaceful smile as he happily prattles on a mile a minute about anything and everything he possibly could. </p>
<p>
  <em>This...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This was fine. It wasn't the ideal situation to be stuck in, but she could live with this. Better yet, she would conquer this issue and any other that decided to throw itself between her and her end goal. She just had to be brave until they were found- Search and Rescue was probably already looking for them- and then she would go see her brother.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Until then, she just had to be brave.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <em> <strong>~X~X~X~</strong> </em> </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Let's be honest here, Despite how Good your intentions, moving someone with broken limbs and a still healing cauterized wound was a bad idea. </p>
<p>
  <em>And that's bad with a capital <strong>'B'. </strong></em>
</p>
<p>The reason for that is: <em>It hurts.</em></p>
<p>Everything hurt to begin with<em>- talking hurts, smiling hurts, moving hurts, breathing hurts</em>- but at least she had kind of numbed herself down to the pain. And then the other's had discovered some type of building-<em> it looked suspiciously like a temple ruin from her history class-</em> inside with a Hall of Healing and came to a collective decision that leaving the wounded person on the dirty floor of a half-destroyed hut was a bad idea......</p>
<p>
  <em>She wonders what could have possibly given them that idea? </em>
</p>
<p>Which was how she ended up here: Trapped between two people as they tried to support her down some dusty stone hall, biting her lip hard enough it bleed, to keep from screaming. </p>
<p>
  <em>It hurts. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>God, it hurts. </em>
</p>
<p>Had there not been a worried six-year-old following anxiously behind them, she probably would have been showing off the impressive vocabulary her brother had imparted on her during all those times he lost playing video games. But as it is, when she catches sight of a glimpse of worried chocolate brow eyes glancing her way, she offers him her best smile. </p>
<p>It comes out more of a<em> 'Someone just killed my cat and served it for dinner'</em> type of grimace than an actual smile, but the blonde-haired child doesn't seem to notice as he beams brightly at her. \</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>...Hehe, it was kind of easy to forget one's pain when you had what seemed to be physical sunshine smiling at you. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We're here," Travis's voice cuts through her thoughts and a part of her wants to sink to the floor in relief as another sharp jab of pain rushes through her body. Lifting her head off the other's shoulder- <em>she wasn't quite sure when she put it there-</em> she glanced around the room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>To be honest, it wasn't all that impressive. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sure, the blue tint to the room was kind of cool and the pink stone pillars were differently unique; but besides that, it looked like a wreck someone had tried to speed clean- and maybe they did- before throwing what looked to be some type of brown cloth- <em>an oversized rag or a cloak maybe</em>- only one of many stone bed lining the walls. Ironically, her first thought upon seeing the room was: </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Rag or no rag, that stone bed was going to kill her back if she actually had to sleep on it. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> <em>~X~X~X~</em> </strong> </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time she glances out a window, she knows without a shred of doubt: </p>
<p>
  <em>No matter where Search and Rescue looked, no matter how long they looked, or how far they looked; No one was ever going to find them. </em>
</p>
<p>While those thoughts may have been a bit dark, they weren't born out of depression; but rather the cruelty of sheer logic. After all, the Earth only had one moon that was sometimes orange, yellow, or white. Nowhere on God's Green Earth could you find a place with two moons hanging above your head. Yet there they were, two excessively large moons mocking her from the other side of the glass plain window near her bedside. Which could only mean.......That where ever they currently were, it wasn't anywhere on the Planet Earth, or anywhere in the Milky Way Galaxy. </p>
<p>
  <em>Hehe....it felt like the beginning of a bad joke or maybe being sucker-punched by a clown in a tuxedo. After all, how did one go from being the victim of a plane crash to being on what appears to be on another God Damn Planet?!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It wasn't reasonable, it wasn't logical, and unless this was hell, it shouldn't be happening. </em>
</p>
<p>She could feel her body tremble as pale hands clutched tightly at the brown robe-<em> not a rag like she had first believed- that one of the other survivors had given her to serve as a blanket. Her throat feels like there's another shard of metal piercing through it</em>- a feeling she recalls quite well though she tries not to think on it- as water drips onto her hands. </p>
<p>She tries to stay quiet- <em>to stay mindful of the other survivors still sleeping on stone beds around her. Of the child curled against her sid</em>e- but it's hard with every choked out sob that forces itself past her lips. And once one of them makes it past, the other's just flows out like a river. It's too much for her. Too much was happening for her to just put up a brave facade, especially when she was alone and there was no one to put up a facade for. </p>
<p>The accident, dying, waking up again, being in constant pain, the wrong moon, the wrong stars, the wrong constellations...... She was trying to be brave, but it all just seemed to come to a head with a single thought: </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>They're never going home again, are they? <br/><br/></em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a soft movement to her side before arms wrap tightly around her waist and something buried itself in her side. For a brief moment, she’s afraid she has awoken Oliver, but a glance downwards reveals the child is still asleep on the opposite side of the movement. Instead of the six-year-old, there’s a head of Familiar lime green hair burrowed into her side as the sun-kissed arms tighten their grip on her waist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knows that hair. It was impossible for her not to see how she helped its owner dye it and ended up with lime green fingers for the next ten days. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Alex</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Short for Alexander Shepard. Her Self-Proclaimed Best Friend since middle school. The other had been the Captain of the Swim team and one of the friendliest people she had ever meet- <em>always laughing and smiling, easy to talk to and get along with</em>- but despite that, he had always been a strange one and rather picky about who he befriended. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wasn’t quite sure what the six-foot-two giant ever bothered sticking around with her, but ever since she was fifteen, the other had glued himself to her side and refused to be shoved away...<em>It probably had something to do with that strange delusion of his, in which he claimed they were all reincarnated aliens who were also monks and the Galaxy’s peacekeepers......</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those delusions, he refused to drop, had cost him plenty of friends, but she never saw the issue in them- <em>they didn’t affect his life and they didn’t affect her-</em> so she had never bothered trying to shut them down and just listened whenever he ranted on them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The arms around her waist and she can’t help but feel a sense of guilt burrow into her chest. In all the chaos and panic, she had almost forgotten about him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite the fact he had helped Travis support her into this bed and hunted down the cloak to use as a blanket she had forgotten about him...Despite the fact, he was in this situation as he only boarded that plane to act as ‘<em>moral support</em>’ for her...<em>What type of friend did that make her if she couldn’t even remember her Best Friend? </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Could she even consider herself his friend-</span> </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” The other smooth baritone commands and she feels as if there’s a lump in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Stop.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s my fault-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not a word,” there’s a sharpness to his tone as a dark eye peeks through lime-green hair to glare at her, “Shit happens. You couldn’t have known the plane would tear apart like a sardine can and you had nothing to do with my choices. You told me not to come, but I did anyway. Whatever happened is on me, not you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Despite his words, it sure doesn’t feel that way. </span> </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/><hr/><hr/>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> <em>Omake: A look into the Real (Our) World</em> </strong> </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"-And in today's news, a deeper inspection into the accident of Flight A13 has revealed that accident was actually the work of pre-planned sabotaged-"<br/>He feels as though he can't breathe as he stares into the case file containing the photos of countless people whose bodies had been discovered within the wreckage of what remained of Flight A13. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> <strong>Oliver Wool</strong> </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Six years old. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Blonde hair, blue eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He had boarded the plane with his parents. The three of them were in the midst of a Cross Country Family Vacation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The young child had suffocated due to his oxygen mask failing. Due to the size of his lungs, it had happened too quickly for anyone to notice in the midst of the utter chaos as the plane tore apart around his parents, who honestly believed he was safe between them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It was painful to stare at the image of a small child with too blue lips and glazed over eyes. He could only imagine the horror his parents must have felt when they glanced between to find the same sight waiting for them. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Travis Anderson</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thirty-six years old. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dark skin and darker hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Retired Combat Medic and current Park Ranger.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He had been moving to a new location, where a new job was waiting for him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The cause of death had been internal bleeding caused by the plane crashing into the land. he died within the impact. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He almost looked like he was sleeping with the way the Veteran was hunched over in his seat, his eyes closed, and a peaceful expression on his face. Half of his hand with missing out of the photo as it had been in the seat next to his. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Matthew Krump</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Twenty-Two years old. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dark skin and dark hair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He was attending University and had decided to travel with his sister, Desia, while on vacation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Like Anderson, he had been killed upon impact due to a snapped neck. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> <strong>Desia Krunp</strong> </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Twenty years old. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dark skin and dark hair matching her brother's. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She had been traveling with her brother, Matthew, while on vacation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cause of death: Strangulation. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sometime during the plane coming apart and the crash landing, wires had gotten loose and caught around both the head of her seat and neck. They had then gotten caught on a peeled open mechanism and strangled the woman to death as she struggled to get free. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> <strong>Alexander Sheppard</strong> </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He knows this young man and his sun-kissed skin, dyed green hair, and matching eyes. It's impossible for him not to seeing as this boy had been his little sister's self-proclaimed 'best friend' since middle school. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He was only twenty-four years old.... He would have been twenty-five in exactly two weeks. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He had boarded the plane with his sister despite them having booked seats several chairs away from either other. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He.....He had been gutted by a piece of flying metal.....It hadn't been a quick death but a slow one due to the metal getting stuck in him, his seat, and the metal floor behind said seat. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He dares not to look at the photo twice. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then there was the one he was looking for:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> <strong>Raven Knight. </strong> </em>
</p>
<p>He doesn't need to look to know anything about her as he already knows all it will say plus more. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Raven Knight</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was only twenty-four. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Pale skin because she never seemed capable of getting a tan despite her best attempts. She had light green eyes, but they were almost always hidden behind a pair of reading glasses. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was... She was his younger sister. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was attending university and refused to let him pay her way through, so she worked as a part-time worker at the neighborhood Subway. She barely made eight dollars an hour and was on a scholarship program that helped pay her way through schooling.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She had boarded that plane, despite her fear of flying, for him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>.....Heh......Hehe........He's the reason she's dead. She never would have gotten on that plane if not for him. He never should have given the Doctor permission to inform her of his current state of being. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He killed her. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Not the terrorist which targeted the plane. Not the metal which pinned her and Travis Anderson's hand to her seat like a butterfly to a board. Not the shards of metal which pierced her lungs and windpipe.... Not the shards of glass that tore into her skin and shredded several major arteries. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <em>It wasn't the blood that filled her lungs. It wasn't the way each shake of the plane caused the metal and glass to further shred her insides. It wasn't the way she had snapped her arm at such an angle the bone left her skin. It wasn't a crash... It was him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>All him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>He killed her. </em> </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He killed his little sister the moment he let that call happen. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It was<strong> ALL HIS FAULT</strong> and he hadn't even had the decency to be among his fellow Agents who went to investigate the scene. He had killed her and left her there to <b>rot</b>. </em>
</p>
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